Panzanella

Oh! I feel such disappointment when a waxy tomato, pale as the moon, shows up while dining out! What a missed opportunity. These flavorless things that some restaurants try to pass off as tomatoes are just outrageous. I wonder why they even bother to serve them at all. 

But there’s no excuse for such nonsense right now. Summer’s here and the time is ripe for tomatoes! Grab them while they are in high season to make the best bread salad tossed with roasted peppers, olives, anchovies, and basil. Tuscany is just a breath away!

Panzanella 
Adapted from Saveur magazine

Ingredients
3 loaves ciabatta (Italian slipper bread, stale)
2 1⁄4 lb. fresh plum tomatoes
4 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed with salt
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Tuscan extra-virgin olive oil
4 tbsp. red wine vinegar
3 red bell peppers (time-saving roasted peppers from a jar would certainly work)*
3 yellow bell peppers 
4 oz. salted capers
6 anchovy filets
5 oz. black olives, pitted
Leaves from 1 bunch basil

Instructions
Cut bread into rough, thick slices, and place in a large bowl.

Peel and halve tomatoes, then seed them into a sieve over a bowl to retain juice. Set tomato halves aside. Discard seeds. Season juice with garlic, black pepper, 1 cup olive oil, and 2–3 tbsp. vinegar. Pour juice over bread and toss until it absorbs all the liquid. If more liquid is required to soak bread completely, add more olive oil.

Blacken peppers over a grill or gas burner *(or use the jar variety), then peel, seed, and cut lengthwise into eighths.

Rinse salt from capers and soak in remaining vinegar.

Gently mix together tomato halves, peppers, drained capers, anchovies, olives, and basil.

Fill a large bowl with alternating layers of soaked bread and pepper mixture, beginning with bread and ending with pepper mixture. Allow to sit for 1 hour at room temperature. Serve moistened with additional extra-virgin olive oil.

 

Dining at Sardi's

Sardi’s looks lovely this time of year, don’t you think? The old dame of the theater district was closed for quite some time after the pandemic and I was thrilled to finally return after so long and catch the bustling restaurant while still gussied up in all its holiday splendor.

When I was a theatrical agent representing actors, I often went to Sardi’s before the opening of a Broadway show—and sometimes my associates and I would sneak back in during intermission to grab a drink at the bar.

On this visit, the memories collected around me as my friends and I were ushered to our corner banquette, where we were flanked by caricatures of several of my former clients among the hundreds of other actors on the walls of fame.

It was cold out and French onion soup seemed the perfect antidote to the chill. I couldn’t help but think too of the times my husband and I, on varying occasions, served a French onion soup that left our guests gasping. The secret seemed to lie in the brandy we liberally ladled in as a substitute for the sherry. I forget who had given us the bottle, but we quickly ran out. When we went to get more, we realized why our soup was so good—the Courvoisier XO brandy we’d been generously gifted was very fine indeed and at $135 a bottle, it was rather the kind you’d sip and savor, instead of pouring into a soup.

A happy accident! And I’m not recommending you go nuts over your soup with such extravagance, but I do think you might use a more modestly priced brandy instead of the sherry suggested below. In any event, this recipe is sure to lead to many ovations, standing or otherwise.

Soupe à l’Oignon (French Onion Soup)

Adapted from Saveur magazine, Issue 107
SERVES 6

Ingredients:
1 cup white wine
1⁄2 cup plus 3 tbsp sherry
10 tbsp butter
1 tsp sugar
3 large yellow onions, thinly sliced
Kosher salt and black pepper, to taste
6 sprigs flat-leaf parsley
6 sprigs thyme
2 fresh bay leaves
2 qts Beef Stock
12 1⁄2"-thick slices baguette
2 cloves garlic, smashed
6 cups grated gruyère cheese
2 cups finely grated parmigiano-reggiano

Method:
1. Heat oven to 425°. Combine wine, 1⁄2 cup of the sherry, 8 tbsp. of the butter, sugar, onions, and salt and pepper in a 9" × 13" casserole dish and braise, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the onions just begin to brown, 40–45 minutes. Remove casserole from oven, cover with foil, and continue braising in oven, stirring occasionally, until caramelized, about 1 hour more. Keep the onions warm.
2. Meanwhile, tie parsley, thyme, and bay leaves together with kitchen twine to make a bouquet garni. Put bouquet garni and stock into a pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, partially covered, for 30 minutes. Remove and discard bouquet garni. Stir in remaining sherry and cook for 5 minutes more.
3. While the broth simmers, spread the baguette slices with the remaining butter. Toast in a skillet over medium heat, turning once, until golden, 5–7 minutes. Rub the slices generously with garlic and set aside. Discard any remaining garlic.
4. Heat broiler with rack 6" from element. Arrange 6 heatproof bowls on a foil-lined sheet tray, divide onions and broth between bowls, and stir together. Place 2 baguette slices in each bowl; top each with about 1 cup gruyère and about 1⁄3 cup parmigiano. Broil until cheeses are browned and bubbly, 3–5 minutes. Serve immediately.

Thanks to @chrislabas for the snaps!

BOOK/A TABLE - Ravigote Sauce

The original plan was that I would make a summery dinner for my cousin at her house in New Hampshire. She fired up the backyard grill for vegetable and mozzarella “Napoleon” stacks, we tossed a pasta salad together and I don’t remember what else...but then some friends called, a few more showed up at the door, and then they invited their friends. Soon we had a houseful of guests and I just kept cooking. More Napoleons were served, I improvised a few pasta dishes, found greens for salad, whisked together a dressing, and quick-thawed some chicken breasts, which also went on the grill, slathered in barbecue sauce.

In my writer’s imagination, as we made a game of muscial chairs around the dining table, I thought of the epic scene from Nana by Emile Zola, where the reckless, scheming courtesan threw a sprawling, gorgeous dinner party with makeshift tables filling all the rooms of her apartment in order to cram in everybody who rang the doorbell, both invited guests and crashers alike.

The menu at at this fictional bacchanal included an asparagus puree and consommé for starters, truffled rabbit and parmesan gnocchi mid-course, and mains such as chicken à la maréchale, foie gras, and filet of sole with—ravigote sauce!

Ultimately, the party that Zola so delicious detailed didn’t go entirely well (the guests were suffocating because of the heat rising from the all the candelabra and each other; the wine uninspiring, you know), but it still lasted until dawn. I’ve never forgotten it.

Someday I might like to have a huge party and recreate the entire menu from Nana, but in the meantime I’ve taken great satisfaction in just making the ravigote sauce and serving it over steak.

Recipes for ravigote vary, but usually revolve around Dijon mustard, shallots, tarragon, and red or white wine vinegar and I’ll wager Daniel Boulud’s version is the best. Try the sauce hot or cold, with sole or steak, as I mentioned—or how about on top of a burger!

Ravigote Sauce
Adapted from Daniel Boulud

Ingredients:

1⁄4 cup aged red wine vinegar
1 tbsp. Dijon mustard
1⁄2 cup cooking stock from Tête de Veau or beef stock
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of cayenne
1 cup sunflower oil
1 cup minced chives
3⁄4 cup finely chopped parsley
1⁄2 cup minced chervil
1⁄2 cup minced tarragon
1⁄4 cup capers, rinsed and minced
2 small shallots, minced
1 hard boiled egg, finely chopped
1 garlic clove

Method:

In a small saucepan, reduce the cooking liquid or stock by half over high heat, about 5 minutes. Cool, then transfer to a blender along with the vinegar, mustard, salt, pepper, and cayenne. With the motor running, slowly drizzle in the oil until emulsified. Transfer to a bowl along with the chives, parsley, chervil, tarragon, capers, shallots, and egg. Using a microplane, grate the garlic into the bowl, then stir everything to combine.

“Nana could not have produced a dozen napkins out of all her cupboards...and scorning to go to a restaurant, she had decided to make a restaurant come to her. This struck her as being more chic.”
Nana, Emile Zola

Thanks to Saveur magazine for the photo! 

Glazed Carrots

                                                Artwork by Peter

This is easy: glazing carrots or other root vegetables as described below is a simple yet utterly charming (and delicious) addition to almost any meal. I cooked and chopped bacon for a crispy topping and in a fit of fancy, subbed herb oil found here instead the butter suggested.

"Start by cutting vegetables into uniform pieces and arrange them in a single layer in a saute pan. Add a few tablespoons of butter, a dash each of salt and pepper, and a pinch of sugar. Add water to nearly cover the vegetables; lay a piece of parchment paper on top; and simmer. As the water cooks off, fat from the butter combines with the vegetables' starches and sugars to form a rich glaze; a shake of the pan distributes it throughout, transforming humble vegetables into elegant side dishes."

Do enjoy!

Thanks to Saveur magazine, issue no. 144.

Linguine with Pesto, Potatoes, and Green Beans

                                               Artwork by Peter

I've been making Trenette col Pesto Genovese for years, toiling over the homemade pesto; boiling and peeling the potatoes; grating the Parmesan myself. Baby and I wanted a simple Sunday lunch recently, over a glass, or two, of a crisp white wine--so I cut to the chase and made the whole thing in about a half an hour. An accompanying, spirited salad composed of just lettuces and a resolute vinaigrette was entirely enterprising!

The actual recipe from Saveur is here. I found a good ready made pesto (or a pre-packaged brand name pesto such as Buitoni might work as well, I imagine) and added in already grated cheese to it. A bag of microwavable haricot vert green beans were ready in a snap. Instead of peeling the potatoes and boiling them, I purchased a can of Gefen whole potatoes, which I think are quite good! The Del Monte variety is also surprising.

So here's what to do: while the water for the 1lb. of pasta gets to a boil, halve the potatoes and broil them with a drizzle of olive oil until nicely browned. Mix the cheese into the pesto sauce. While cooking the pasta in salted water, put the beans in the microwave for the required 2-3 minutes and let sit to cool for a minute or so before handling. Strain the pasta, reserving a 2 tbsp. of the pasta water to bind the sauce, drain the oil from the potatoes and toss all of the ingredients together, adding the delicate potatoes in at the end. Top with more of the grated Parmesan, grind some black pepper to it and done! Here we have something that is truly elegant and yet quite hearty--and was just as delicious as it would have been had I doubled the time and effort. Although our Trenette col Pesto Genovese may be served anytime, I usually only make anything involving wildly evocative basil in the summer.

Do enjoy!

Should Life Hand You Lemons...Make Lemon Bars (and other things)!

I recently discovered I had a near to overwhelming amount of lemons in my crisper: I bought a few not realizing I already had couple and then there was a snafu with my favorite online food delivery service Fresh Direct where they delivered even more lemons instead of the limes I had ordered. I had first bought some lemons for recipes and drink garnishes but I don't make that much lemon chicken or drink that many vodka tonics with lemon wedges. So, what to do? Helen Rosner from Saveur magazine's 2012 Cookie Advent Calendar came to the rescue, in part, with her recipe for lemon bars. The underlying shortbread was wonderful and my curd topping tasted great; it just wasn't as firm as I would have liked--next time I would have left the bars longer in the oven once the curd topped the shortbread (which is baked first), somewhere around 15 minutes longer instead of the 10 minutes Ms. Rosner suggests, and also, really do refrigerate the bars for at least several hours after they have been cooled on the counter top for a firmer lemon curd, I think.

I also made preserved lemons and at the moment, I am using the juice from the last lemon to make a Caesar dressing found here to dress my kale later for a wonderful salad!

Lemon Bars
Make 16 Bars
Ingredients
FOR THE LEMON CURD:
8 tbsp. unsalted butter, cubed and chilled
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
Zest and juice of 2 large lemons

FOR THE SHORTBREAD CRUST:
12 tbsp. unsalted butter, softened
2 ½ tbsp. sugar
2 ½ tbsp. confectioner's sugar, plus more for dusting
1⅓ cup flour

Instructions
1. Whisk together sugar and eggs in a 2-qt. saucepan until smooth; stir in zest and juice. Place over medium heat, and cook, stirring often, until thickened to the consistency of loose pudding. Remove from heat and add butter, a couple cubes at a time, until smooth; transfer to a bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate until firm, at least 2 hours.

2. Heat oven to 325°. Combine butter, both sugars, and flour in a bowl and beat on medium speed of hand mixer until smooth and evenly combined. Transfer to a parchment paper-lined 8" square baking pan, and press into the bottom. Bake until lightly golden and set, about 30 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 300°, pour lemon curd over crust, and continue baking until slightly loose in the center, about 10 minutes. Let cool completely, and then refrigerate until firm. Cut into squares and dust with confectioners' sugar to serve.
Thanks to themindunleashed.org for the juicy snap!

Agua de Valencia

After having encountered a dish or a drink that I wasn't satisfied with, something such as fried chicken soaked in peculiar pecan gravy or a miserable mai tai, what do I do when the thoughts niggle at me? I go home to make it myself, usually with better results. I'd heard about Valencia's historic, specialty cocktail, the Agua de Valencia, first crafted about 50 years ago, with gin, orange juice and Spanish cava. When Baby and I went off to Spain, I was excited to try one. I was left as flat as yesterday's cava. The campy, florid Cafe de las Horas (suitably suggested by our local friend) served a wonderful pitcher, I think with vodka, but I was still unsatisfied. I spotted the brittle, gruesome waitress at the popular Cafe Sant Jaume behind the bar attempting to pour the revered cocktail, premade and out of a plastic bottle! In a word, "no." When I returned to the states, I positioned myself behind our bar and set to work. A splash of rum did the trick and resulted in a deliciously refined, refreshing respite. The following recipe is courtesy of Saveur magazine.

Agua de Valencia
Serves One
Ingredients
1 oz gin
2 oz freshly squeezed orange juice
Splash dark rum
1-2 oz chilled cava, or similar fizzy white, such as prosecco

Method
Fill shaker with ice. Add first three ingredients and shake with vigor. Strain into a stemmed glass (I used a beautiful, etched coupette from a collection that belonged to my Nana, used on her wedding day back in the 1920's--but you needn't perhaps go that far). Top off with the fizzy, sparkling goods and leave the aforementioned waitress out of it. Do enjoy!

Cassoulet 2013

 

I absolutely loved making this version of cassoulet in celebration of my blog's anniversary--and enjoyed eating it even more! Courtesy of Saveur magazine, the recipe may be found here. 

Making cassoulet is sincere, honest work. I fully admit to being slow in the kitchen, but as I have said before, I don't think cooking is a race or a competition. Even though this recipe is very straight forward, despite all the time it took with simmering, stewing, bubbling and whatnot, there was hardly any wait time--I never sat down! You can gun this at seven hours, but this cassoulet should have time to rest overnight, so plan on making it the day before you intend to serve it.

There were already four game limbs of duck confit chilling out in our refrigerator and I devised a very simple way make confit, found here. We didn't have dried great northern (or any small white beans) so I used canned, adding them in later so as not to become overly mushy--and it saves some time too in the cooking process.

Quartered onions and thyme become well-acquainted with ham hocks, covered in water with some salt and pepper.

More onions met up with a browned pork bones (not a ham bone as the recipe suggests) in a heavy bottomed pot. I also subbed bacon ends and bits instead of pork rind.

This part was great: about a cup of garlic cloves went into the blender with another onion and 1/2 cup water to create a paste. I was concerned at first that it was a little watery, but the minute it heated up in the pan with the browned sausage links, it was devastatingly aromatic and so delicious as I dug a spoon into it to give it a taste.

Once everything came together it cooked for three more hours before completely cooling and going into the refrigerator to sleep overnight. It was slowly reheated for another three hours the following afternoon and was timed served to our guests at dinner time without the slightest effort--and more than a moment to catch up over relaxing cocktails. 

Happy Anniversary, Evenings With Peter! And thanks to dear folks for reading!




Soundtrack: C'est Chic! French Girl Singers from the 60's; Diva soundtrack.

Play Reading - Auntie Mame

 

It was that time of the month again--for our play reading.  We skipped December because of all of the holiday bustle and launched once again triumphantly with Auntie Mame. The friend of mine slated to play Mame was unfortunately out of town but as I already had about 10 other takers who could show up, what was a host with the most supposed to do? I leapt into the gargantuan role myself as my other friends assumed their roles, all 40 of them!

The story involving the eccentric aunt in question revolves around a blithe spirit who suddenly finds herself in charge of her young nephew, after the death of her brother--naturally, hilarity ensues in this classic play. The action spans as many locales as it nearly does decades: there's always a party in the certifiably chic apartment at No. 3 Beekman Place in Manhattan; a wild fox hunt races full gallop Down South in Peckerwood; bigotry is confronted in Connecticut and a honeymoon that takes years traipses across the globe. I set the table as such: festive flutes and knocked over martini glasses were filled with pearls as simulated spirits; a riding hat was perched on a bottle of Champagne immersed in ice near a vintage fox hat; a map of Connecticut served as a centerpiece; candles and candlesticks from Marrakesh and Africa took fair care of the international aspect. 



When the Great Depression hit, Mame lost everything in the crash of '29 and decided she needed Christmas a little early (with Thanksgiving not even upon them), so I created a snowy wreath at the bottom of our punch bowl from fir boughs, artificial pine cones with berries and shredded coconut.

The famous quote from the play is "Life is a banquet!" My menu was based on the idea of a 50's cocktail party, with some help from Saveur magazine's feature "Midnight in the Parlor of Bourbon and Rumaki" in issue #71. Note the rumaki in the top picture, with marinated chicken livers and slivered water chestnuts enraptured by bacon. The recipes may be found here but I definitely dabbled on my own and took liberties with the finely composed party menu that was so elegantly and enticingly written about. To nibble on, Baby also made cheese straws from puff pastry dough, with a little garlic powder and Old Bay seasoning.

Cheesy artichoke dip with Stacy's pita crisps!

These crab spoons were a delight. I mixed canned lump crab meat with some chopped shallots, mayonnaise and a little Dijon mustard. For a topper, Baby and I cut out little leaves from the remainder of the puff pastry dough and sprinkled them with a blend of shredded Gruyere and Swiss cheeses before tossing them in the oven. Suddenly we found ourselves with instant gougeres!

We used black forest ham instead of prosciutto, as the Saveur menu suggests, with cream cheese and olives stuffed in our rolls, presented in a checkerboard fashion with dried cranberries and mixed nuts filling out the periphery of the platter.

Delicious prepared whitefish courtesy of Blue Hill Bay was spread into leaves of Belgian Endive, anchored by a host of grape tomatoes and outfitted with parsley. Sort of like another wreath, don't you think?

And of course, my version of the Flaming Mame with tequila, grapefruit syrup and bitters and a touch of incendiary absinthe made sure we were all lit, even before the Champagne toast at intermission.

My only regret is that I neglected to take any pictures of the Chex mix. Well, one must live, anyway!

Soundtrack: The Andrew Sisters, Songs from the Roaring 20's; Tommy Dorsey, Greatest Hits; Noel Coward, An Evening with Noel Coward; Lalo Schifrin, Mambo in Paris. 

C is for Cookie

And these White Chocolate-Macadamia Nut Cookies found in the pages of the December 2012 issue of Saveur are good enough for me--and just about everyone I know, as I gave most of them away so as to avoid devouring the entire utterly scrumptious batch! We added peanuts into the mix, and I suggest you do too.

White Chocolate-Macadamia Nut Cookies
MAKES ABOUT 5 DOZEN
INGREDIENTS
2 cups flour
1 tsp. kosher salt
¼ tsp. baking soda
1½ cups packed light brown sugar 1½ cups sugar
16 tbsp. unsalted butter, softened
2 eggs
1 tbsp. vanilla extract
1½ lb. roughly chopped white chocolate
1 lb. roughly chopped roasted and salted macadamia nuts

INSTRUCTIONS
1. Whisk together flour, salt, and baking soda in a bowl; set aside. In a large bowl, beat sugars and butter on medium speed of a hand mixer until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition until smooth; beat in vanilla. Add dry ingredients, and beat until just combined; stir in chocolate and nuts.

2. Heat oven to 325°. Using a 1-oz. ice cream scoop or 2 spoons, portion and shape dough into balls, and place balls 2½" apart on parchment paper-lined baking sheets. Bake until golden brown, about 14 minutes.

Grill, Un-interrupted

 

Baby and I are probably the only people you have perhaps ever encountered who travel with their own meat and basting brushes. To clarify, we were heading to the wilds of Maine with a fine grilled menu in mind and were unsure of the cuts of beef we may find there, and as we were renting, who knew what cooking utensils the kitchen might hold? We at least were assured that there would be a grill, as transporting that might prove to be cumbersome.

Behold our lovely centerpiece, composed of driftwood and curls of birch bark that we found along the shores of Muscongus Bay...

and frilly ferns, great leaves, twigs, tiny pine cones and berries from along the hill next to our pot that would soon hold roasted corn.

Grilled Romaine lettuce!



Tonight's Menu
Roasted Pepper S'mores--an old Martha Stewart classic that I've been making for years. Splitting a variety of brightly colored peppers in half (try to keep them hinged), remove the seeds. Stuff with slices of mozzarella cheese and sprigs of rosemary. Drizzle with olive oil inside and out, with ground salt and fresh black pepper. Close up the peppers and get to grilling until cheese has melted and the peppers have those lovely char marks. 
Roasted Corn--brush your ears, husks and all, with olive oil and roast on the grill for at least 45 minutes. When cool enough to handle, peel and delight in smoky revelry, rolled in lots of butter.  
Grilled Romaine Lettuce with Lemon-Anchovy Vinaigrette--click here and add anchovy paste to the dressing and sub lemon juice for the Champagne vinegar. Brush your greens with vigor before tossing on the grill.
Chimichurri Steak--click here for a version of the sauce with Rib-Eye steaks. Ours were flank cuts.
Strawberry Shortcake--nothing easier than the best berries you can find with some cream of tartar biscuits and Cool Whip!

Me & Martha

Giddyap! The Kentucky Derby strode heartily past on May 5th, coinciding with Cinco de Mayo. So we called it Derby de Mayo! I threw my Derby party, replete with icy mint juleps, shrimp and grits,
chicken mole, Benedictine sandwiches, and tomatoes with biscuits. This year my friend brought a perfectly peachy peach cobbler to delightfully devour, found in Saveur magazine. Although I didn't win any money on the horses (discrete betting is always permitted), I feel I won something much richer. I recently had the breathless privilege of meeting Martha Stewart and in this captured picture I am telling her about how I've made the shrimp and grits recipe from her classic Menus for Entertaining cookbook for my Kentucky Derby parties for 17 years now. She looked absolutely stunning and was entirely gracious. Look at her silver shoes! She nodded thoughtfully and agreed about the shrimp and grits recipe, saying, "Yes...that's a good one." My guests over the years certainly agree too.

The galloping, gallant horse I'll Have Another was the triumphant winner in a most amazing race and continued on to a follow-up victory at the Preakness. Here's hoping the Belmont will bring a Triple Crown!

My grand Derby top hat, cut with a swath of scarlet chiffon, hung up to rest...

And the chicken mole before it completely vanished!

 

Of course, the shrimp and grits, simmering before being served.



The decimated table, having once been filled with the spread, oceans of bourbon and bottles of wine! I spread open the recipe for the Benedictine sandwiches from Saveur magazine, as well as my storied copy of Ms. Stewart's Menus for Entertaining on the table for decorative purposes along with a glorious bouquet of peonies and white hydrangeas. Who brought the Coca-Cola?



My etching below is a tribute to the run for the roses that I made several copies of to line up and suitably outfit a runner for the table. "A rose is a rose is a rose..."

Roman Holiday

While I was looking up something or other in a copy of Saveur magazine, I encountered an Roman Easter feast within the pages. Baby and I had planned to have a few friends over for the upcoming holiday and it seemed like these recipes would make an extraordinary meal indeed.

We had a lot of fun decorating the table with grandly colorful foil-wrapped chocolate eggs (we removed them before sitting down so we could see one another), pastel napkins, and chocolate Lindt carrots dangling off of the glasses.

This little fellow doesn't seem like he's headed for a great fall, perched on tiered cake stands; rather it appears he's in for a great Spring!

Stracciatella, a Roman egg drop soup, came out first, with the prosciutto and olive bread for dipping, seen below.

We ventured on to our first pasta course: Fettuccine alla Romana, with beef, pork, chicken livers, and a sumptuous short rib in red wine sauce.

Artichoke hearts marinated with wine, lemon, olive oil and topped with fresh chopped mint and crispy bacon served as the pause. I riffed on this recipe, using canned artichokes and not cooking the artichokes as that would make them mushy. I simply poured the hot sauce over them, tossed with mint and lemon (to prevent them discoloring) and let cool before putting in the refrigerator to marinate for a few hours. The bacon was my idea.

The collective plunge continued with a second, simpler fettuccine with fava beans, that featured onions, pancetta and escarole tossed about in olive oil. As that was made on the spot, I didn't have the time to take a picture of it!

Handsome lamb served as the centerpiece of the meal, coated in olive oil, and stuffed with garlic and rosemary, shown here, about to go in the oven. I followed the basic recipe but used a leg of lamb instead of the whole thing, as the recipe suggests.

This pyramid-shaped, tiramisu flavored with orange was unlike anything I had ever seen or made. It wasn't that hard in execution--it just needs several hours to chill ahead of time--but boy, was it good! Savaoiardi ladyfingers are soaked in cream and Cointreau and spread out like spokes of a wheel, followed by a layer of mascarpone cheese, heavy cream and orange zest. This is repeated in smaller layers to form the pyramid shape, using about 40 ladyfingers.

After our grateful glut, we retired to the sofa and put our feet up on the coffee table, stuffed to the gills. Look at the light in that incredible sky!

And of course, a spray of yellow tulips. Happy Easter!

Soundtrack: Quincy Jones, Hip Hits; Blossom Dearie, Stephane Grappelli, Shades of Django, Horace Silver; Miles Davis, Birth of the Cool 

Scallops and Red Cabbage

A dish of scallops and red cabbage wasn't intentional at all. I was just messing about with haphazard ingredients in the house--but when such happenstance intervenes, mere coincidence and alchemy do find themselves to be quite amiable companions in the kitchen.

Toasting the fennel seeds is the first part, a dry tablespoon for 10 seconds in a heated skillet; when you can smell their fragrance, they are done. Add in a thinly sliced half head of red cabbage and toss now and then with two tablespoons of olive oil while cooking down on a lesser flame. Add in about 1/4 cup maple syrup and when your cabbage has wilted further, add more syrup. Although the procedure is simple, it is patient work, not to be hurried.

Meanwhile, get your scallops going--just around half an eager pound will satisfy four people when accompanied by other dishes featured in a light buffet. Start by simmering a cup of white wine with 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar and a tablespoon of Penzy's Shallot Pepper until reduced down to about 3 tablespoons. Take off heat and whisk in a few tablespoons of European butter such as Lurpak to your liking and whisk in 1 tablespoon dried chives, a little salt and pepper as well. Heat up two tablespoons of olive oil in a separate skillet, add salt and pepper to your scallops and quickly sear them on both sides. Douse with juice from half of a fresh lime, and then in certain vessels, top the wilted red cabbage with our little scallop friends.

Do enjoy!

Thanks for the scallop inspiration from David Bazirgan, from The Fifth Floor restaurant in San Francisco.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

My friend's birthday coincides with New Year's Eve, so what else to do but throw a New Year's Eve Birthday Around The World Buffet Party! Baby and I had invited somewhat of an international roster and folks from out of town were also coming, so we planned on a buffet where our friends could come and graze as they pleased instead of cramming in around the table. This was a great idea as people really did filter in and out through the evening, arriving at different times. As far as the menu was concerned, we knew we wanted to make French onion soup which served as the base before we ventured further across the globe. We also had planned to serve a different course every hour on the hour, leading to a midnight Champagne toast but things rarely work out that way.

Classic prawns in pints from England were actually easier-to-procure shrimp and the Lobster Bisque Dip I whipped up, with chunks of lobster, grilled corn, and a diced mango finish was simply from New England (more on that later). It was served with kettle crisps but the shrimp also found its way in the dip too!

The French onion soup enriched with Cognac was ladled out from a marvelous tureen with individual gruyere cheese toasts to top our guests' little cups. For our Italian pasta course, Sam Sifton's Mushroom Lasagna from the New York Times was an absolute time-consuming chore--thank goodness I made it the day before--but it should sit in refrigeration over night anyhow. I feel it was worth it though, nearly blushing over the ensuing compliments. There was barely any left and what was went to other homes, sealed in Tupperware. Baby used a recipe for ragu from Saveur to complete the course. This meaty sauce with beef chuck and pork shoulder also incorporated chicken livers and pancetta. He even made his own ricotta cavatelli for a perfect pasta foil!

Here it all deliciously came together, with a judicious shaving of Parmesan cheese:

Behold the octopus!

We wanted something lighter to serve after all that pasta, so Baby tackled this slimy sea creature with abandon to create a Greek dish, with red wine and sliced wild fennel. The olives in the dish were salty to be sure but even the squeamish amongst us tried it and I believe we had a few converts.

Before midnight we served a simple marble bundt cake to celebrate our friend's birthday. We had planned on Swiss chocolate fondue but we were just too exhausted by that point and everyone else was too tipsy to care.

Blow out the candles and make a wish...!